


The Little Merman

by MeansToOffend (goodmorning)



Series: 31 in 31: NHL Fairy Tales [31]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Edmonton Oilers, Fairy Tale Retellings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-09 02:04:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12266673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodmorning/pseuds/MeansToOffend
Summary: "Of course, the most beautiful things of all down there are the merpeople, and the most beautiful of them are always the royal children.There were six of them, all lovely, with clear skin and bright eyes, but it was the youngest who was the fairest and best-loved of them all."





	The Little Merman

Just on the outskirts of the kingdom of Edmonton, in the green summer countryside, lies a lake. It is large and blue and deeper than anyone wants to think in the middle, and relies on the whims of a small stream to feed it in the summertime. It is in the stream, which is deep despite its size, and in the lake that the merpeople live.

Don’t believe that it’s all murky, that the only things on the bottom are stones. No, there is beauty there, all shining fish scales and trees that don’t die in the winter and beautiful fluorescent things that hide under rocks and keep the depths of the lake light enough to see. Of course, the most beautiful things of all down there are the merpeople, and the most beautiful of them are always the royal children.

There were six of them, all lovely, with clear skin and bright eyes, but it was the youngest who was the fairest and best-loved of them all.

The princes spent their childhoods pleasantly, dutifully learning their lessons, playing outdoors, taming the wild fish, and each of them was allowed a plot in the royal gardens for their own private use, since everyone feels like being alone sometimes. Many of them used theirs for whimsy shapes or trained up sea-vines into walls, but the youngest planted only the sea-flowers that looked most like the sun.

He spent a great deal of time there, for he was obsessed with the idea of the world above, of which his grandmother spoke so often, and which he would only be allowed to see for himself once he had turned eighteen.

That is not to say that his brothers had no interest in the human world, but they did not have so much time to wait, and were largely content with the promises they made: that each would tell the younger ones what things in the world above were most beautiful.

So it was that Andrej turned eighteen at last, and went to the surface, and returned with hundreds of things to tell his younger brothers, but his favourite was the noise of the big city in the distance, for underwater there is scarcely any noise at all but the sound of one’s own heartbeat.

The next year, it was Iiro’s turn to go up. He broke the surface as the sun set, and saw the rush of colours in the sky, watching as they faded to night. That was what he told his brothers the next day, though he found description difficult which was very unsatisfying to them all.

The following year Adam ascended. As the others had birthdays in the summer, they had not seen what he saw: the ice beginning to form on the edges of the lake, tiny fluffy snowflakes falling into the water and melting instantly. He caught one on his tongue, delighted at the cold, for the bottom of the lake was of a remarkably consistent climate year-round.

Then it was Oscar’s turn. As the boldest of all the brothers, who had swum through murky forests and dared them all to follow, he went some way up the stream, and saw the wonderful countryside, all full of cows, and some children splashing on the shore with their human feet.

Anton was not so brave, but floated in the middle of the vast lake, watching the sky and the birds above, watching the clouds change shape in their travels through the air, feeling the breeze so like yet unlike the currents of the water.

Often after that the five of them would travel to the surface together during storms, trying to sing people out of their houses and into the lake to live, but it didn’t work: they were never heard over thunder and wind, and even if they had been heard, it wouldn’t have worked since humans can’t live underwater.

Leon felt terribly left out at these times, and yearned terribly to see what was above the lake’s surface, but at last he, too, was eighteen, and waited impatiently for all the ceremonial finery he didn’t care for to be placed about his person before he, too, swam up and up towards the last scraps of sunlight.

It was late in October, but it was a mild one, and someone was having a party. One house’s yard was lit with beautiful coloured lanterns, all oranges and blues like the sunset on the lake, and music drifted out to Leon. It was sweet, and beautiful, very unlike his brothers’ songs. He couldn’t help but get closer. People were dancing on the lush green lawn, spilling out from the mansion, the gazebo, the boathouse, casting long shadows in the soft light.

Leon watched the revelry as it grew late, and a young man who looked to be much his own age came out and stood on the dock quite near him, staring at the lake. The man took the circlet from his head, setting it gently at his feet, and murmured something to himself about ‘ice’ and ‘soon’ and ‘hockey’ and Leon fell quite drastically in love with the shape of his mouth.

Over the next few months Leon fell even more drastically in love with the man, with his lake-blue eyes and his distaste for coronets and his human name.

Connor, Leon mouthed to himself, alone at night, and wished dearly that he could speak it aloud.

“Connor!” Leon shouted into the howls of an unseasonable storm, and wished dearly that he could speak it to his face.

Winter came, and the lake froze completely. Leon learned what ‘hockey’ was, and if he had thought himself in love with the human prince before it was nothing to his feelings now. Connor moved so swiftly over the ice, so gracefully and wonderfully, that it was impossible not to desire him.

The prince often skated alone, and these days were Leon’s favourites, for they showed his talent without him pretending it was less. One such day, however, the prince was evidently much distracted, and the merman watched in horror as he skated closer and closer to the stream, where the currents kept the ice from being thick enough to support human weight. There was a pop, and a crack, and Connor fell through, into the freezing lake below.

Leon swam to him, and dragged him to the bank, but could go no further. Still, Connor was cold, and he laid across him, trying to hold in what heat he could, and kissed his forehead, and hoped he would live.

There was a shout from the nearest house, and Leon was thankful for his camouflage as he swiftly retreated to the lake. He watched as the prince’s eyes opened, as he looked straight at the man who’d run down from the house, as he smiled while they carried him in.

He wondered if Connor would remember him.

Leon’s longing for the prince continued to grow as the days went by, until finally he grew desperate to win Connor’s love.

He went to the sea mage.

“I don’t know why you’d want to be human,” said the sea mage, wrinkled gremlin face crinkling in disgust, “but I can make it happen.”

“I want the prince to love me. I want to play hockey with him, and kiss him, and help him any way I can.”

The sea mage snorted. “I’ll make you a drink, and you’ll have to sit on the shore and drink it at dawn. You won’t like it, though. It’s going to be painful, to change your tail into legs, and it’ll keep being painful every time you take a stride, like the knives you wish to skate on cutting into your flesh instead of the ice.”

“I can bear that, for him,” Leon said, bravely.

“I’m sure you can,” said the sea mage, sneering. “But if he marries someone else you’ll die before the dawn of a broken heart and become ice.”

“I still want to do it.” But Leon was a little pale.

“And you’ll have to pay me,” said the sea mage.

“Anything.”

“I want your voice,” he said, and Leon reached out and shook his hand.

And so it was that Leon slipped out of the palace in the middle of the night, swam to the lakeshore, and drank, and it was so painful he wanted to scream.

Of course, he couldn’t scream. He had no voice.

But when it was over, and the sun came fully up, and Leon lay naked and shivering on the lakeshore, he was seen. Prince Connor, who’d been waiting for sunrise, hurried down the steps to him with a blanket and escorted him in.

“What’s your name? What happened to you?” the prince asked, but Leon could only tap his mouth and shake his head.

When Leon was well-warmed at last, dressed in some spare clothes of the prince’s, Connor began to take his leave, for he wanted to resume his practice routine. But Leon sprang up, and despite the pain managed to convey that he, too, would like to play.

He was beautiful, his speed nearly a match for Connor’s and his hands nearly as good, and it felt as natural as swimming had. Better, even, when Connor smiled at him.

They quickly became close, Leon sharing some of the more basic information about his family, Connor sharing his secret fears.

“They want me to become king,” he said one day, “but if I do, I shall have to marry a prince of Arizona, and I don’t want that. I don’t know this prince, and anyway I owe a debt to the man who saved me from the lake last month. Oh, I wish I knew how to find him again. I only met him the once, but I can’t imagine loving anyone else in this lifetime.”

The man who saved him, of course, had been Leon, but he suspected Connor meant the man from the house, with his dark hair and dark eyes. Still, as long as Connor never married anyone…

When the ice melted and the prince of Arizona finally came, though, Leon knew his time was up, for Prince Dylan had dark hair and dark eyes, and even before Leon saw him close up he knew this prince was the same man Connor spoke of with such devotion. When Connor came to him that night, brimming with joy, Leon kissed his hand, and felt his joy, even though he knew he would shortly die and be reduced to ice.

The wedding and coronation celebrations were beautiful, all coloured lights and bells ringing, but Leon neither saw nor heard the beauty, mourning for what he was about to lose. When it became dark, he sat alone on the dock, in the place he had first seen Connor, but he still couldn’t wish it had never happened.

His brothers appeared in front of him, and Oscar handed him a knife, telling him that his only way out was to kill King Connor before the sun came up, but Leon only sighed and set the knife aside, resigned to his fate. He walked up to Connor’s bedroom one final time, kissed him on the forehead, and sighed once more.

With his final goodbyes said, Leon returned to the dock at last. Dawn stained the waters of the lake bloodred as the little merman dove in.

And the ice that was once the youngest prince of the lake melted instantly.

**Author's Note:**

> \- And here we are at the end! It's been very fun but also I'm never doing anything like it again - deadlines suck.  
> \- It seems somewhat appropriate that the first story I wrote should be the last one I post, as was the plan all along.  
> \- In the end the biggest trope subversion I could think of was to forget my aversion to unhappy endings, and end this collection on a sad note. But there's hockey tonight!   
> \- Coincidentally, that's also why I'm posting this one early. Hopefully the games are good!


End file.
